


Music in mechanics

by BloodBr0thers



Series: Station 506 [2]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Cute, Dinner Date, Food, M/M, attempts at flirting, bit fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodBr0thers/pseuds/BloodBr0thers
Summary: Joe and George have their dinner date and end up falling harder for each than they probably expected.
Relationships: George Luz/Joseph Toye
Series: Station 506 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1135553
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Music in mechanics

**Author's Note:**

> I’m honestly embarrassed by how long its took me to update this series but at last it’s finally happened!
> 
> It’s late here but I’ve checked this over as best I can. Apologies in advance for dodgy grammar, spelling and punctuation. Further apologies if anything seem outs of character.
> 
> As always comments, kudos and constructive criticism is welcome! Thank you so much for reading.

Joe’s palms wouldn’t stop sweating.

There was only so many times he could rub them against the fabric of his best jeans before the material would just gave way—but it just wouldn’t stop. Joe was nervous, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t, but he didn’t think his nerves would get to him this bad. 

Joe had been on plenty of dates, male and female. He had experienced the worst and the best they had to offer. He’d always managed to give off a charming presence, yet he’d always kept a part of himself in reverse—in case things didn’t go to plan. He was a naturally closed off person, he’d never give anyone the slightest bit of vulnerability on the first date. Honestly, most of his dates turned out to be either a waste of time, or just someone after something quick and easy. It never really mattered in the end anyway.

Joe wondered if that was all George wanted. Quick, easy and exhilarating. Something along the lines of the mans own personality. Joe couldn’t remember the last time he was disappointed by the thought of his date wanting anything but an easy time. Usually, he wouldn’t think twice about ending the evening and going home, or maybe meeting Bill and Babe in The Toccoa and drowning his sorrows in beer. 

Tonight was different.

He’d truly never felt like this about someone before. An involuntary spark had ignited itself, catapulting his insides into a frenzy, igniting a million more sparks which all danced as wildly as the last, before they all exploded into tiny firework shows inside his gut. There was something so incredible, so different about George Luz that Joe couldn’t wait to find out what it was. 

Joe quickly pulled out his phone, checked the time and then looked up to see the man in question come tumbling through the door. His cheeks were rosy, tinged pink from the cold weather outside and his hair was dotted with a smattering of snowflakes. Without thinking, joe smiled to himself, drinking in the sight.

George scanned the room, eyes wide and observing, until he spotted Joe in one of the far corners and smiled cheerfully. He made his way over quickly, clearly excited. 

“Hi,” he said, almost breathlessly. “The traffic was somethin’ else, man, I’m so sorry.”

“No problem,” responded Joe, calm and collected. George wasn’t even late, arriving just on time. 

George nodded and smiled, shedding his coating and depositing it on the back of his chair easily. He sat down and made himself comfortable, smiling up at Joe once he was seated. 

“I really hope you haven’t been waiting long,” started George, apologetic and earnest. “I flagged a taxi down and they had no idea where they were going, total chaos.”

Joe laughed lightly, shaking his head. He flicked his wrist up and checked his watch. “You’re just on time, I wouldn’t worry. I’ve definitely waited longer for a date.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t keep you.”

“So am I.”

Their eyes connected over the table and Joe couldn’t help but watch his reflection in George’s eyes. They were deep and rich, the same colour as chocolate and even more appealing. Joe found the more he stared the more he got lost in them. 

A waiter interrupted their chatter, asking for their drink orders which George quickly took charge of. He ordered a bottle of wine, glancing briefly towards Joe with slight anticipation written across his face. Joe nodded in agreement, immediately making George relax.

“Nice place,” commented Joe, waiting until the waiter was out of earshot. “Sure beats The Toccoa, huh?”

The tips of George’s ears noticeably redden and Joe can’t help the swooping feeling that soon took over his stomach.

“It sure does,” agreed George, “it’s a personal favourite of mine this place. On the down-low, anyway.”

The place in question was a restaurant just off Fourth street, not far from the bar both men often frequented. Not overly swanky, but with enough charm to it to strike Joe as almost feeling out of place. Something along the lines of affordable luxury. The windows large and taking up most of the buildings front, the curtains long and red, with an obscene amount of cheap gold paint covering the walls and decorations.

“So,” started George, “what do you do for a living, Joe?”

Luz was staring at him with an completely open and honest face. He was honestly interested in what he did for a living, waiting with keen eyes to drink in everything Joe said. It was something that Joe wasn’t accustom to, usually people just wanted to know how he lost his leg. Joe was fairly certain George knew what he did for work, but he cleared his throat and continued anyway.

“It’s not much,” started Joe, shrugging almost self-consciously without thinking about it. “I work for a garage in downtown Philly. It pays the bills so I can’t argue. It’s messy work but I’m good with my hands.”

George smiled immediately. Leaning past the newly arrived waiter as he poured their wine into two long-stemmed glasses, trying desperately to make sure Joe knew he was listening. It was refreshing and reassuring, something different he wasn’t used to. It made him relax slightly, lower his defensives and not have to worry about any accidental inappropriate questions.

“With Bill and Babe, right?” Said George, “Buck Compton’s garage, isn’t it?”

Joe nodded, “that’s right.”

George smiled, wild and bright. Picking up his glass and swigging from it. He was wearing a nice shirt, similar to Joe’s and a comfortable pair of Jeans. He seemed at home here, well established and less frantic. 

“They’re all swell fellas,” agreed Luz, “Shame they’re not quite the darts players.”

Joe laughed, knowing exactly what he was referring to. The time that Buck had managed to swindle himself and Babe out of a packet of cigarettes each. Clearly someone had told Luz the story, possibly Babe himself. It definitely wasn’t either of their finest moments and they’d promised to get Buck and Bill back eventually, but for now it was something they could all laugh at.

“How did you get into radio?” Asked Joe, veering the conversation away but keeping up their rapport. 

George put down his glass, his throating working as he swallowed a mouthful of wine. Joe watched, trying not to make himself noticeable as his eyes took in the sight before him. The light was dim in the restaurant but it made George’s tanned complexion more compelling. Made his eyes more mysterious and dark. 

“Well,” started George, “my friend, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know him, actually. He’s called Carwood, but I call him Lip after his last name—that’s Lipton, by the way—he got me the gig.” 

“Carwood Lipton, I’ve heard him mentioned.” Said Joe, “but that’s only because of his boyfriend.”

Luz laughed, loud and gleeful, “seems you’ve heard about Ron, then.” 

“If that’s his name, then possibly.”

“That’s his name,” George said, “Ron Speirs. Terrifying looking guy but absolutely enamoured with Lip. It’s surprisingly sweet, oddly.”

Joe sipped from his wine and nodded, interested in hearing more about Luz and his kind but terrifyingly odd friends. 

“I owe it all to them really,” shrugged George, “I’m good with radios and wiring, making electrical stuff work when it’s broken, things like that.” 

“So you did some favours for the both of them?” Asked Joe, intrigued. 

George shook his head, “not necessarily Ron, he doesn’t work for the radio station. He’s a cop. Just Lip, really.” 

Joe nodded in understanding. His next question dying in his throat as their waiter appeared again next to their table, his notepad and pen at ready for him to take their order. It wasn’t hard to decide what to eat, there wasn’t much choice and before George had arrived, Joe had been scanning the menu.

After they both placed their orders, the pair continued to talk, each filling up their wine glasses more and more. Joe could feel the heat in his cheeks, not something that often happened and rarely with beer, internally he cursed the choice in wine and continued to sip slowly anyway. In for a penny, in for a pound, right?

“So, you like the station then?” Asked George while cheekily winking, sloshing wine everywhere without realising. 

Joe shrugged, taking one last sip of wine before putting the glass down, “what can I say? The folks in the garage have taste.”

George smirked, his smile cocked at an angle. “It definitely sounds like it. Even though Babe and Bill would disagree with most of that statement.”

Joe laughed, but shook his head. “Whatever they told you, it’s lies. They love your show just as much as I do, maybe even more.”

George scoffed, quick off the mark. “I don’t think that’s possible, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

Joe stared for a second, watching as George picked up his wine glass and staged looking away while sipping from his drink, hiding what was meant to be a laugh. Joe couldn’t help but smile. They had each other figured out. 

“Touché.” Was all Joe could say before their food arrived and they dug in heartily to their meals.

After a few more glasses of wine each, and their plates had been taken away by their waiter, the pair had gravitated closer than maybe they were both expecting. Joe could practically smell the George’s alcohol laced breath on his face. It was surprisingly pleasant and Joe would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it.

“So, then,” said George after a couple minutes comfortable silence, “fancy another date?”

Joe smiled, appreciating the brash and bold approach that George continued to have. It wasn’t a hard choice, in fact he’d be silly to turn down such an offer. He’d never met someone who continually turned his world upside down, enjoying every twist and turn of conversation with George. 

“I think I could manage it,” nodded Joe. “My choice?”

George nodded. “Your choice. Something I look forward to actually, think it’ll be interesting.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” 

Joe smiled and nodded in understanding. “I think I already have something In mind.”

“Well, aren’t I a lucky?” Asked George aloud. “Don’t tell me. Make it a surprise.”

Joe laughed and nodded, “okay, I won’t.”

George nodded and winked, finishing off his wine in one impressive gulp. They continued their conversation through one or two more glasses of wine before Joe caught sight of his watch. He was in work early tomorrow, earlier than usual and he hadn’t planned on staying out as late as he already had. George was watching him closely, scrutiny under deep brown eyes. 

“I need to leave, but honestly,” said Joe, standing, “tonight was amazing. Thank you.”

George smiled, a different smile from the one he’d shown off all night. It was toothy and slightly less goofy than normal. He finished his own glass of wine and stood up himself. 

“It’s okay, this was all my idea,” said Luz, grabbing his coat and riffling through for his wallet. 

“You want me to grab the tip or—“

“absolutely not,” said George, “nope, no. I’ve got this, don’t worry.”

Before joe knew it, he was being pulled in closely for a hug. Once he collected his thoughts and his head processed something other than George’s smell, Joe reciprocated the hug. Once they pulled apart George shooed him away, chastising him jokingly for being up past his bedtime. 

On the way out the door, Joe stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leatherjacket for warmth. As he set off down the snowy Philadelphia pavements, his hand made contact with something that hadn’t been there beforehand. 

Joe stopped and pulled out a crumpled, creased note, written in messy, barely legible handwriting.

‘He’s a number you’ll want to remember for a good time. Luz.’

Below it, was a number that joe had only briefly seen but never saved. Something surprisingly serious washed over him and he smirked as he set about saving George Luz’s number.


End file.
